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Acasa, My Homeopens with a lovely image of telling dissonance.
And yet, those buildings remain in the distance.
We see the lakes and meadows surrounding it.
ButAcasais not exactly a movie about paradise lost.
Ciorniciuc seamlessly blends intimacy and lyricism with a clear-eyed honesty about what hes depicting.
The Enaches are free but also desperately poor.
His kids know no life other than the park.
Occasionally, people from child services come, and the kids have to go and hide in the woods.
Theres an understated velocity to Ciorniciucs storytelling.
A massive fire in the park forces the governments hand.
We see Gica looking on curiously as dignitaries do their rounds.
We see his children staring quizzically at the colorful backpacks of kids rolling through on school field trips.
Yuppies come to picnic.
At their new school, the kids cant even spell their own names.
They have no idea what to do with the tiny apartment theyve all been forced into.
The boys wander the streets, trying to do the things they did in nature with the urban landscape.
They wade into the river, under a sign that forbids swimming.
They hang off light posts as if they were branches.
They stare at other kids, eager to make friends but unsure how.
Life becomes a debilitating series of social-worker visits, neighbor arguments, complaints about filth.
Its like the walls are closing in, both spiritually and literally.
But again, Ciorniciuc wants to tell a more complicated story.
The kids are remarkably adaptable, their curiosity about the world around them endless.
